The supply of food being the first of necessities, and being in fact

(as we have seen) an ever-pressing problem in Greece, it is no wonder

that land-hunger, leading to wars for territory, and land-grabbing,

a fertile cause of internal dissension and seditions in states, were

normal phenomena of Greek history. And what happened in old Hellas was

reproduced abroad, as the Greek colonists overflowed into lands beyond

the seas. Once the possession of territory was secured by war, and the

means of its defence organized, two problems soon presented themselves

for solution. It was at once necessary to decide by what labour the land

was to be cultivated. Greek colonists, desirous no doubt of an easier

life than they had led in the old country, generally contrived to devolve

this labour upon others at a very early stage of their establishment.

Either they reduced natives to the condition of serfs, or they employed

slaves, whom the profits of growing trade and commerce enabled them to

procure in larger and larger numbers. Meanwhile in the mother country

various systems went on side by side. There were large districts of

agricultural serfage, in which a race of conquerors were supported by the

labour of the conquered. In other parts independent peoples, backward in

civilization, lived a free rustic life of a largely pastoral character.

Others again devoted themselves more to the tillage of the soil, with

or without the help of slaves. It was known that in earlier times a

population of this kind in Attica had long existed, and that after the

unification of Attica and the reforms of Solon it had for a time been the

backbone of the Athenian state. But in fertile lowland districts there

was a not unnatural tendency towards larger estates, worked by hireling

or slave-labour. It seems fairly certain that in Attica before the time

of Aristotle the supply of free wage-earners for farm-work was failing:

the development of the city and the Peiraeus, and the growing number of

those in receipt of civil and military pay, had drawn the poor citizen

away from rustic labour. Nor is there reason to think that after the loss

of empire there was any marked movement back to the land on the part of

free labourers or even small farmers. It would rather seem that Attic

land was passing into fewer hands, and that the employment of stewards or

overseers, free or slave, was one of the features of a change by which

the farming of land was becoming a symptom of considerable wealth.

But beside the decision as to labour there was the question as to a means

of checking land-monopoly. Such monopoly, resulting in the formation

of a discontented urban mob, was a serious menace to the stability of

a constitution. For all poor citizens to get a living by handicrafts

was perhaps hardly possible; nor would the life of an artisan suit the

tastes and wishes of all. Nature does (or seems to do) more for the

farmer on his holding than for the artisan in his workshop, and the

claim to a share of the land within the boundaries of their states had

led to seditions and revolutions, ruinous and bloody, followed by ill

feeling, and ever liable to recur. Colonial states, in which the first

settlers usually allotted the land (or most of it) among themselves

and handed down their allotments to their children, were particularly

exposed to troubles of this kind. The various fortunes of families, and

the coming of new settlers, early raised the land-question there in an

acute form, as notoriously at Syracuse. No wonder that practical and

theoretical statesmen tried to find remedies for a manifest political

evil. Stability was only to be assured by internal peace. To this end two

main lines of policy[379] found favour. Security of tenure was promoted

by forbidding the sale of land-lots or making it difficult to encumber

them by mortgages: while the prohibition of excessive acquisition[380]

was a means of checking land-grabbers and interesting a larger number of

citizens in the maintenance of the land-system. But there is no reason

to think that measures of this kind had much success. Nor were vague

traditions[381] of the equality of original land-lots in some Greek

states of any great importance. Some theoretical reformers might aim

at such an arrangement, but it was a vain aspiration. Indeed, regarded

from the food-producing point of view, nothing like a true equality was

possible in practice. Confiscation and redistribution were only to be

effected at the cost of civil war, and the revered wisdom of Solon[382]

had rejected such a proceeding. Communistic schemes had little attraction

for the average Greek, so far as his own labour or interests might be

involved: even the dream of Plato was far from a thoroughgoing communism.

Of the farmer in his character of citizen[383] Aristotle had a favourable

impression formed from the experience of the past. The restless activity

of Assemblies frequently meeting, and with fees for attendance, was both

a cause and an effect of the degeneration of democracies in his day. It

meant that political issues were now at the mercy of the ignorant and

fickle city-dwellers, a rabble swayed by the flattery of self-seeking

demagogues. Athens was the notable instance. Yet tradition alleged (and

it can hardly be doubted) that in earlier times, when a larger part of

the civic body lived and worked in the country, a soberer and steadier

policy[384] prevailed. The farmers, never free from responsibilities and

cares, were opposed to frequent Assemblies, to attend which involved

no small sacrifice of valuable time. For this sacrifice a small fee

would have been no adequate compensation, and in fact they had none

at all. Naturally enough Aristotle, admitting[385] that in the states

of his day democratic governments were mostly inevitable, insists on

the merits of the farmer-democracies of the good old times, and would

welcome their revival. But the day for this was gone by, never to return.

Another important point arises in connexion with the capacity of the

state for war, a point seldom overlooked in Greek political speculation.

In discussing the several classes out of which the state is made up,

Aristotle observes[386] that individuals may and will unite in their

own persons the qualifications of more than one class. So the same

individuals may perform various functions: but this does not affect his

argument, for the same persons may be, and often are, both hoplites and

cultivators, who yet are functionally distinct parts of the state. Just

below, speaking of the necessity of ‘virtue’ (ἀρετὴ) for the discharge of

certain public duties (deliberative and judicial), he adds ‘The other

faculties may exist combined in many separate individuals; for instance,

the same man may be a soldier a cultivator and a craftsman, or even a

counsellor of state or a judge; but all men claim to possess virtue, and

think they are qualified to hold most offices. But the same men cannot be

at once rich and poor. The common view therefore is that Rich and Poor

are the true _parts_ of a state.’ That is to say, practical analysis can

go no further. In another passage[387], discussing the formation of the

best kind of democracy, he says ‘for the best Demos is that of farmers

(ὁ γεωργικός): so it is possible to form (a corresponding?) democracy

where the mass of the citizens gets its living from tillage or pasturage

(ἀπὸ γεωργίας ἢ νομῆς).’ After considering the political merits of the

cultivators, busy and moderate men, he goes[388] on ‘And after the Demos

of cultivators the next best is that where the citizens are graziers

(νομεῖς) and get their living from flocks and herds (βοσκημάτων): for

the life in many respects resembles that of the tillers of the soil,

and for the purposes of military campaigning these men are peculiarly

hardened[389] by training, fit for active service, and able to rough

it in the open.’ The adaptability of the rustic worker is further

admitted[390] in a remark let fall in a part of his treatise where he is

engaged in designing a model state. It is to the effect that, so long as

the state has a plentiful supply of farm-labourers, it must also have

plenty of seamen (ναυτῶν). Having just admitted that a certain amount

of maritime commerce will be necessary, and also a certain naval power,

he is touching on the manning of the fleet. The marine soldiers will

be freemen, but the seamen (oarsmen) can be taken from unfree classes

working on the land. Their social status does not at this stage concern

us: that such labourers could readily be made into effective oarsmen is

an admission to be noted. To the philosopher himself it is a comfort

to believe that he has found out a way of doing without the turbulent

‘seafaring rabble’ (ναυτικὸς ὄχλος) that usually throngs seaport towns

and embarrasses orderly governments. In other words, it is a relief to

find that in a model state touching the sea it will not be necessary to

reproduce the Peiraeus.

In considering the proposals of earlier theorists for the remedy of

political defects it is hardly possible and nowise needful to exhaust all

the indications of dissatisfaction with existing systems. Of Euripides

and Socrates, the two great questioners, enough has been said above. The

reactionary Isocrates was for many years a contemporary of Aristotle.

What we can no longer reproduce is the talk of active-minded critics

in the social circles of Athens. It happens that Xenophon has left us a

sketch of the ordinary conversations of Socrates. No doubt these were

the most important examples of their kind, and his method a powerful, if

sometimes irritating, stimulus to thought. But we are not to assume a

lack of other questioners, acute and even sincere, more especially among

men of oligarchic leanings. That Aristotle came into touch with such

persons is probable from his connexion with Plato. Certain passages in

the _Constitution of Athens_, in which he is reasonably suspected[391]

of giving a partisan view of historical events, point to the same

conclusion. We shall never know all the criticisms and suggestions of

others that this watchful collector heard and noted. But it is both

possible and desirable to recall those to which his own record proves him

to have paid attention.

Both Hippodamus and Plato based their schemes on a class-system, in which

the farmer-class form a distinct body: but the former made them citizens

with voting rights. Being unarmed, and so at the mercy of the military

class, Aristotle held that their political rights were nugatory. In

the _Republic_, Plato gave them no voice in state-affairs, but in the

_Laws_ he admitted them to the franchise. While these two reformers made

provision for a military force, Phaleas, ignoring relations with other

states, made none. To Phaleas, equality in landed estate seemed the best

means of promoting harmony and wellbeing in the community; and he would

effect this equality by legal restrictions. This proposition Aristotle

rejected as neither adequate nor suited to its purpose. Moral[392]

influences, hard work, discretion, even intellectual activity, can alone

produce the temper of moderation that promotes concord and happiness. In

short, if you are to effect any real improvement, you must start from

the doctrine of the Mean[393] and not trust to material equalizing. The

several tenure of land-lots was generally recognized, with variations

in detail; Plato in the _Laws_ abandoned the impracticable land-system

of the _Republic_, and not only assigned a κλῆρος to each citizen

household, but arranged it in two[394] sections, for reasons given above.

The attempt to ensure the permanence of the number of land-lots and

households by strict legal regulation, as some legislators had tried to

do, is also a general feature of these speculations. Plato in the _Laws_

even went further, and would place rigid restrictions on acquisition of

property of all kinds. All agree in the usual Greek contempt for those

engaged in manual or sedentary trades. Such ‘mechanical’ (βάναυσοι)

workers were held to be debased in both body and mind below the standard

of ‘virtue’ required of the good soldier or citizen. Phaleas made these

‘artisans’ public slaves _de iure_: Hippodamus placed them, with the

farmers, in nominal citizenship but _de facto_ bondage. Plato tolerates

them because he cannot do without them. In the matter of hard bodily

labour, free or slave, the position of Plato is clear. He would devolve

it upon slaves; in agriculture, with a coexisting alternative system

of serf-tenants. But both classes are to be Barbarians. It seems that

Hippodamus meant the public, if not the private, land of his model

state to be worked by slaves. Most striking is the fact that Plato in

his later years combined the aim of self-sufficiency with dependence on

servile labour. Commerce is, for the moral health of the state, to be

strictly limited. The supply of necessary food-stuffs is to be a domestic

industry, carried on by alien serfs or slaves for the most part. Such

communism as exists among the Guardians in the _Republic_ is a communism

of consumers who take no part in material production: and it is abandoned

in the _Laws_.

The above outlines must suffice as a sketch of the situation both in

practice and in theory when Aristotle took the matter in hand. The

working defects of Greek constitutions were obvious to many, and the

incapacity of the ignorant masses in democracies was especially evident

to thoughtful but irresponsible critics. Yet the selfishness of the

rich in oligarchies was not ignored, and the instability of governments

supported by only a minority of the citizens was an indisputable fact.

The mass of citizens (that is, full members of the state according to the

qualification-rules in force) had to come in somewhere, to give numerical

strength to a government. How was governing capacity to be placed in

power under such conditions? Experience suggested that things had been

better for Athens when a larger part of her citizens lived on the land.

Use could no doubt be made of this experience in case an opening for

increasing the number of peasant farmers[395] should occur. But it was

precisely in states where such a policy was most needed that an opening

was least likely to occur. It would seem then that the only chance of

improving government lay in persuading the average citizen to entrust

wider powers to a specially selected body of competent men, in short to

carry into politics the specializing principle[396] already developed by

the advance of civilization in other departments. Now the average citizen

was certain to test the plans of reformers by considering how their

operation would affect cases like his own. It was therefore necessary

to offer him a reassuring picture of projects of this kind, if they

were to receive any hearing at all. To own a plot of land, inalienable

and hereditary, was a security against indigence. To have the labour of

cultivating it performed as a matter of course by others was a welcome

corollary. To be relieved of mechanical drudgery by aliens and slaves

was a proposal sure to conciliate Greek pride. And the resulting leisure

for the enlightened discharge of the peculiarly civic functions of war

and government was an appeal to self-esteem and ambition. But that the

creation of a ruling class of Guardians with absolute power, such as

those of Plato’s _Republic_, would commend itself to democratic Greeks,

was more than any practical man could believe. Nor would the communism

of those Guardians appear attractive to the favourers of oligarchy.

Therefore Plato himself had to recast his scheme, and try to bring it

out of dreamland by concessions to facts of Greek life. Not much was

gained thereby, and the great difficulty, how to make a start, still

remained. That much could be done by direct legislative action was a

tradition in Greek thought fostered by tales of the achievements of early

lawgivers. But to remodel the whole fabric of a state so thoroughly that

an entire change should be effected in the political atmosphere in which

the citizens must live and act, while the citizens themselves would be

the same persons, reared in old conditions and ideas, was a project far

beyond the scope of ordinary legislation. To Aristotle it seemed that the

problem must be approached differently.

This is not the place to discuss the two distinct lines taken by him;

first, that the character of the state depends on that of its members,

and secondly, that the individual only finds his true self as member of

a state. The subject has been fully[397] treated, better than I could

treat it; and in constructing a model there remains the inevitable

difficulty, where to begin. The highest development of the individual

is only attainable under the training provided by the model state, and

this state is only possible as an association of model citizens. If we

may conjecture Aristotle’s answer from a rule[398] laid down in the

_Ethics_, he would say ‘first learn by doing, and then you can do what

you have learnt to do.’ That is, effort (at first imperfect) will improve

faculty, and by creating habit will develope full capacity. But even so

it would remain uncertain whether the individual, starting on a career of

self-improvement, is to work up to the making of a model state, or the

imperfect state to start training its present citizens to perfection.

The practical difficulty is there still. Nor is it removed by putting

the first beginnings of training so early[399] that they even precede

the infant citizen’s birth, in the form of rules for eugenic breeding.

Aristotle’s procedure is to postulate favourable equipment, geographical

and climatic, a population of high qualities (that is, Greek,) and then

to consider how he would organize the state and train its members—if the

postulated conditions were realized and he had a free hand. In this new

Utopia it is most significant to observe what he adopts from historical

experience and the proposals of earlier theorists, and in what respects

he departs from them. It is in particular his attitude towards ownership

and tillage of land, and labour in general, that is our present concern.

As it follows from his doctrine of the Mean that the virtue of the state

and its several members must be based on the avoidance of extremes, so it

follows[400] from the moral aim of the state that its component elements

are not all ‘parts’ of the state in the same strict sense. Economically,

those who provide food clothing etc are parts, necessary to the existence

of the community. Politically (for politics have a moral end) they are

below the standard of excellence required for a share in the government

of a perfect state. They cannot have the leisure or the training to fit

them for so responsible a charge. Therefore they cannot be citizens. To

maintain secure independence and internal order the citizens, and the

citizens only, must bear arms. And, since the land must belong to the

possessors of arms, none but citizens can own land. This does not imply

communism. There will have to be public[401] land, from the produce of

which provision will be made for the service of religion and for the

common tables at which citizens will mess. To maintain these last by

individual contributions would be burdensome to the poor and tend to

exclude them. For rich and poor there will be. But the evil of extreme

poverty will be avoided. There will be private land, out of which each

citizen (that is evidently each citizen-household) will have an allotment

of land. This κλῆρος will be in two[402] parcels, one near the city

and the other near the state-frontier, so that issues of peace and war

may not be affected by the bias of local interests. The cultivation of

these allotments will be the work of subjects, either inhabitants of

the district (περίοικοι) or slaves; in any case aliens, not Greeks; and

in the case of slaves care must be taken not to employ too many of the

same race together or such as are high-spirited. He is concerned to

secure the greatest efficiency and to leave the least possible facilities

for rebellion. The labourers will belong to the state or to individual

citizens according to the proprietorship of the land on which they

are severally employed. By these arrangements he has provided for the

sustenance of those who in the true political sense are ‘parts’ of the

state (πόλις), and for their enjoyment of sufficient leisure[403] to

enable them to conduct its government in the paths of virtue and promote

the good life (τὸ εὖ ζῆν) which is the final cause of state existence.

The citizens then have the arms and the land and all political power.

Among themselves they are on an equal footing, only divided functionally

according to age: deliberative and judicial duties belonging to the elder

men, military activities to the younger. It is impossible to overlook

the influence of the Spartan system on the speculations of Aristotle as

well as those of Plato. The equality of Spartan citizens was regarded

as evidence[404] of a democratic element in their constitution, and we

find this same theoretical equality among the full citizens at any given

moment in the developing constitution of Rome. It is significant that

Aristotle felt the necessity of such an equality. He remarks[405] that

the permanence of a constitution depends on the will of the possessors

of arms. We may observe that he seldom refers to the mercenaries so

commonly employed in his day, save as his bodyguard of usurping tyrants.

But in one passage[406] he speaks of oligarchies being driven to employ

them at a pinch for their own security against the Demos, and of their

own overthrow in consequence. Therefore he did not ignore the risk run

by relying on hirelings: naturally he would prefer to keep the military

service of his model state in the hands of his model citizens. But he

had no belief[407] in the blind devotion of Sparta to mere preparation

for warfare. Peace is the end of war, not war of peace. If you do not

learn to make a proper use of peace, in the long run you will fail in war

also: hence the attainment of empire was the ruin of Sparta: she had not

developed the moral qualities needed for ruling in time of peace. But in

his model state he seems not to make adequate provision for the numbers

required in war. His agricultural labourers are not to be employed in

warfare, as the Laconian Helots regularly were. He only admits them to

the service of the oar, controlled by the presence of marine soldiers,

who are free citizens like the poorer class of Athenians who generally

served in that capacity. The servile character of rustic labour on his

plan is thus reasserted, and with it the superior standing of land forces

as compared with maritime. The days were past when Athenians readily

served at the oar in their own triremes, cruising among the subject

states and certain of an obsequious reception in every port. Hired

rowers had always been employed to some extent, even by Athens: in this

later period the motive power of war-gallies of naval states was more

and more obtained from slaves. There was an economic analogy between

farm-labour and oar-labour. The slave was forced to toil for practically

no more[408] than his food: the profits of the farm and the profits of

war-booty fell to be shared in either case by few.

Aristotle, who was well aware of the merits of the working farmer, the

peasant citizen, and recognized that such men had been a sound and

stable element in the Athens of former days, would surely not have

treated agriculture as a work reserved for servile hands, had he not been

convinced that the old rural economy was gone and could never be revived.

For, if suggestions from Sparta influenced him when designing Utopian

institutions, it is no less clear that the Utopian setting—territory,

city, port-town,—are merely modifications of Attica, Athens, Peiraeus. In

Greece there was no state so favoured geographically, so well equipped

by nature for independence prosperity and power. If a Greek community

was ever to realize an artistic ideal, and live in peaceful and secure

moderation a model life of dignity and virtue, it could hardly have a

better chance of success than in some such advantageous position as that

enjoyed by Athens. Her defects lay in her institutions, such as he viewed

them at their present stage of development. These could not be approved

as they stood: they needed both political and economic reform. Into the

former we need not enter here: the later democracy could not but disgust

one who judged merit from the standpoint of his doctrine of the Mean.

Economically, we may infer from his own model project that two great

changes would be required. Citizens must all have an interest in the

land, though farmed by slave labour. The port-town must no longer be a

centre of promiscuous commerce, thronged with a cosmopolitan population

of merchants seamen dock-labourers etc and the various purveyors who

catered for their various appetites. In truth the Peiraeus was a

stumbling-block to him as to Plato, and probably to most men[409] who did

not themselves draw income from its trade or its iniquities, or who did

not derive political power from the support of its democratic citizens.

To have a state ‘self-sufficing’ so far as to get its necessary food from

its own territory, and to limit commerce to a moderate traffic sufficient

to procure by exchange such things as the citizens wanted but could not

produce (for instance[410] timber), was a philosopher’s aspiration.

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